


Kiss, Kiss

by mydogwatson



Series: Postcard Tales II [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Branston's pickle, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogwatson/pseuds/mydogwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kiss a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss, Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is just mostly fluff.  
> Mostly.

[Kiss: A touch or caress with the lips.]

 

The first kiss happened on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, just after lunch, so Sherlock could still faintly taste the pickle-and-cheese sandwich John had eaten, over-laid with a hint of P.G. Tips. He did wonder if cataloguing the flavours while in the middle of a kiss was A Bit Not Good.

Later, John always said that had he known that a kiss was [at long bloody last] going to happen he would have brushed his teeth first so that he would have tasted of peppermint instead of Branston’s.

Sherlock frowned in response to that and said that while his experience in such things was rather limited [kisses on a case didn’t count], he was not aware that a kiss required any sort of pre-emptive warning. “And anyway, John,” he added after a thoughtful moment, “I don’t think of you as a peppermint tasting sort of person. You’re definitely more of a cheese and pickle and P.G. Tips type. With an inclination towards wearing terrible jumpers, of course.”

John laughed in that way he had and then he went to do the washing up.

Sherlock watched him for just a moment before returning to the microscope and his study of toenails.

John, wisely, had not asked any questions about that.

*

The second kiss came on the following Friday morning. 

John really had no explanation for why he dropped another piece of toast onto each plate and then simply bent over to press his lips against Sherlock’s. After a moment of mild surprise, Sherlock opened his mouth a little and John’s tongue slipped in as if it belonged there.

Sherlock tasted of lavender honey and John was soppy enough to think that it was the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. He did not say so to Sherlock, of course, not until a very long time after the moment itself.

He also thought that probably it was time they had a bit of a talk about the whole…whatever it was happening between them. Once John was back in his chair and they had finished the second serving of toast, he even opened his mouth to say something, although what exactly that something would be had yet to be determined.

But then Lestrade texted and they spent the next two days chasing down a gang of dognappers who specialised in snatching Crufts champions worth thousands. Before they solved the case, John rather fell in love with a sad-eyed bulldog named Ralph.

*

Eventually they did actually talk about it. Well, briefly, anyway.

“Are you okay with this?” was what John asked, after a kiss over cups of bad coffee in an empty interrogation room at the Yard.

“Have I given you any indication that I am not?” Sherlock asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Well, no,” John admitted. “But I just wondered…”

They could both hear Lestrade returning, so Sherlock only smiled and said, “You are so funny, John.”

Then he leaned forward to place just one more kiss on John’s lips before the door opened.

*

Over the days, the years, the decades that followed, there were far too many kisses to count, although Sherlock had a room in his Mind Palace where he kept each one.

Some of those kisses tasted of cheese and pickles, some tasted of honey, and some of nothing but Sherlock and John. They kissed in the kitchen at 221B, as well as the parlour, the bedroom, and on the staircase. They snuck kisses at the Yard and once or twice in the frozen foods section at Tesco. Once in the back of Mycroft’s limo, while the man himself tried not to look. It became a matter of some importance to Sherlock that John’s previous nickname of Three-Continents Watson was proven again, this time with Sherlock himself. And because he was something of a git, he arranged to take a couple of Mycroft’s cases so that they actually kissed on five continents.

Later, they kissed in a back garden in Sussex and in the apiary with the bees hovering. Several kisses were exchanged in the rain as they tried to catch a playful pup bent on avoiding a trip to the vet.

Caught while taking a walk during an unexpected October snowstorm they kissed until frostbite almost set in.

*

The last kiss happened on a spring morning when they were both very old.

It tasted of love and undimmed passion and was somehow flavoured with the promise of more, because even though neither of them believed in much beyond one another, they both understood that love like theirs could not be extinguished by something as insignificant as death.

That last kiss tasted of a new beginning, not an end.

 

_The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer._  
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

**Author's Note:**

> Title From: Kiss, Kiss by Roald Dahl


End file.
